A Rather Profound Christmas Special
by garfieldodie
Summary: Calvin and Hobbes are eagerly anticipating Christmas, but everyone in town is getting angrier by the second. They have to restore the Christmas spirit before Santa decides to judge them all as bad. COMPLETE!
1. Spontaneous Acts of Good Will

"It's cold," said Calvin.

"Yes, it is," agreed Hobbes.

The reason the two friends were talking was because it was the only thing in this world that could keep them warm. They were covered from head to toe in snow, basically because they'd just had another freak sledding accident. The sled was in pieces, so they didn't bother trying to save it. They were walking back to their house where their backyard joined with the woods.

"On a scale of one to ten?" Calvin asked.

"Twelve," Hobbes replied.

That was a pretty bad crash.

"What'll we tell your mom when we come back without a sled?"

"I doubt she'll notice. I mean, Christmas is only a week away, and she's probably all worked up right now with shopping for people Santa can't give gifts to."

"Speaking of which, how have you been with your goodness level?"

"Ah, it's pretty good, but not so good as to be worthy of that grenade launcher I asked for. I'd need to do something pretty big. Last year, all I got was a bunch of stupid clothes. Can you imagine the disappoint I felt?"

"Yes. You didn't stop talking about it for weeks."

"This year, I'd better get something good. I've worked hard to be as good as gold."

"Yes, and you've expressed that by throwing snowballs at Susie, Moe, and your parents all day."

"Hey, it's winter. I might as well have _some_ fun, right?"

"Yeah, but if it's out of cold cruelty, it's considered to be evil, and I highly think that Santa isn't going to forgive such circumstances unless you can actually make up for it with a spontaneous act of good will."

"Man, that guy's got me everywhere I go! Can't he realize that we bad kids can be—"

"You just called yourself a bad kid! Santa might have heard that!"

"Aw, geez!" Calvin moaned. "I might've just ruined any chances of gift giving!"

He turned his head to the sky and shouted. "I DIDN'T MEAN THAT, SANTA! I'M A _GOOD _KID! HONEST!"

Hobbes rolled his eyes and continued on. "You worry too much about this. Santa will give you at least _one_ gift."

"Well, if _that's_ the case, then it might as well be zero."

"Careful! You might give Santa ideas."

"I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" Calvin shouted. "I'LL TAKE WHATEVER YOU GIVE ME! PROVIDED IT'S NOT GIRL STUFF OR CLOTHES!"

"This is that time of year when whatever you say could effect your present chances."

"I know, which is why I need to be super careful not to be bad. If I want any loot this year, I've gotta prove to Santa that I can be super-good."

"How're you gonna do that?"

"I'll be as good as I can be! I'll do ten spontaneous acts of good will each day until Christmas. Santa will like that, won't he?"

"He might."

"Great! We'll start right now! What's the first thing we could do?"

Hobbes looked and saw Susie in her yard. She was trying to push the second part of her snowman into place.

"We could help Susie," he suggested.

Calvin saw her. "I dunno. We'd be violating one of the several rules of GROSS."

"Ah, come on. We'll just say it was the spirit of Christmas that made us do it."

Calvin pondered this thought over until he finally said, "All right, we'll do it."

They walked across the yard to Susie.

"What do _you_ want?" she sneered.

"In the spirit of Christmas, we're going to help you build that snowman," Calvin said.

"No way," Susie grunted. "I've seen your snowmen, and I'm not going to let you turn mine into a deranged-looking monster."

Calvin was about to turn away, but he saw Santa looking down on him, so he didn't give up.

"But I'm trying to be helpful."

"No, you're just trying to be good so that Santa will bring you gifts."

"So?"

"So that's bad."

"No it isn't. You're in need of help, and I'm going to help you, whether you want me to or not."

Before Susie could stop him, Calvin was pushing against the second snowman part with all his might. He pushed so hard that he went straight through the giant snowball and then got his head stuck in the bigger one.

"You idiot!" Susie shouted. "You ruined my snowman!"

Calvin moaned to himself. "So much for spontaneous acts of good will."

Susie kicked Calvin with some snow and ran inside.

Hobbes dug him out.

"Another fine mess you've gotten me into, Hobbes," Calvin sputtered.

"Well, if I'd have known she was going to be so hostile, I wouldn't have suggested it."

"A fat lot of good _that _did me. What am gonna do? Santa probably thinks I did it on purpose!"

"Maybe you could do something that's actually useful."

"Like?"

Hobbes pointed at the snow shovel that had been abandoned for the sled ride. It was in the front walk, which was only half-clear.

"Oh, _no_!" Calvin moaned.

"Hey, it's either that, or we'll have to resort to more drastic measures, like being nice to Rosalyn."

"Okay, fine, if you're gonna be like that about it."

Calvin grabbed the shovel and started to dig. Hobbes watched from the sidelines.

"You know, _you_ could stand to improve your résumé, too, buddy boy," Calvin said grumpily.

"_My_ résumé isn't tattered beyond repair," Hobbes shot back.

Calvin was tempted to fling a shovel of snow at him, but he remembered Santa, and he managed to resist.

Hobbes sat in the snow near the sidewalk, watching people go by. To his surprise, instead of cheery smiles, everyone had dark scowls on. Comparing them to Calvin, Calvin seemed to be a ray of sunshine!

"It seems that bad moods can spread pretty fast," said Calvin. "That's the beauty of it."

"Calvin, I don't think these people are triggered by your bad mood, although I'll admit that you're bringing me down."

"Ignore it. They'll cheer up later on when its Christmas morning and they get their own loot."

It took a good half hour, but Calvin finally finished shoveling the walk, and just in time, because Dad pulled into the drive.

"Phew!" breathed Calvin. "That's _one_ spontaneous act of good will down, and nine to go. I'll bet I can score another one at dinner if I don't burp."

"And another, if you actually compliment your mother's cooking."

"There, that's three we can check off! We just need seven more before bed!"

Before they could go on, they heard Dad slam his door shut. They whirled around and saw him stomping up the snowless walk.

"Hey, Dad! I shoveled the walk!" Calvin called.

"Big deal," Dad said icily. He stomped up the steps and into the house.

"Hey, get back here and praise me!" Calvin shouted. "You spent all morning trying to get me to do this, so I'd better get some appreciation right now!"

Hobbes rolled his eyes and entered the house, leaving Calvin standing in the snow, gritting his teeth.

When he finally decided to come inside, he went straight to Mom.

"Mom, Dad won't thank me for shoveling the walk!" he whined.

Mom grunted and didn't look up. She was fiddling around with the checkbook.

Calvin glared up at her. "You know, any time you'd like to show some sympathy for my prolonged suffering, I'll be right here staring at you."

Mom answered that one. "Calvin, go upstairs and whine to your stuffed tiger."

Calvin grunted. "He won't listen. You're the only one left. Now explain this inexcusable behavior right now!"

"Hey, I can talk to you any way I want, mister," Mom said coldly. "Now go up those stairs right now, and don't come down until New Years."

Calvin's face fell. "But what about Christmas?"

"We'll throw your expensive gifts at you."

Calvin snarled angrily. He turned and stomped up the stairs. "This isn't over! MARK MY WORDS!"

He was right. This bad attitude was _far_ from over.


	2. The Last Day of School

Hobbes sat on the bed that morning. Calvin had left for the last day of school before the winter holiday, where he would be off of school for three weeks. He found it rather dull reading the same comic books over and over again, despite having drawn mustaches on every picture of Captain Napalm.

Knowing that Calvin's parents were at work and at a book club, Hobbes decided to catch some television. He decided that he'd watch infomercials in order to find a good Christmas gift for Calvin. With a marker and a notepad, he went downstairs and turned on the TV.

However, he soon saw a frown face on the TV screen. It was pulled back and put in a news box, revealing a news anchor.

"This is So-And-So, covering the morning news," he said. "Today, there was a bit of a sour mood that has spread throughout the entire town. Despite the cheeriness of the holidays approaching, it seems that people are far too stressed with paying bills for gifts and shopping. It seems the Christmas spirit has left our town."

"Oh, shut up, So-And-So!" shouted the co-anchor. "You think you're so great with your superior title and all, but you're not! It's me, No One Important, that has to bring you the coffee that gets you working in the day."

"Hey, why don't you get a life!" said So-And-So. "Get out of here! I hate you and everything you stand for!"

They started to throw papers at each other, followed by coffee mugs, pencils, pens, clipboards and the news desk. It was when No One Important picked up the currently on camera and hurled it to the ground, and the screen went blank, making that long beep noise.

"And tidings of good joy to all people, they said," Hobbes muttered, and he changed the channel.

"Hiya, friends! Ralph Spoilsport, Ralph Spoilsport Motors, the world's largest new used and used new automobile dealership, Ralph Spoilsport Motors, here in the City of Emphysema. Let's just look at the extras on this fabulous car! Wire-wheel spoke fenders, two-way sneezethrough windvent, star-studded mudguards, sponge-coated edible steering column, chrome fender dents, and factory air-conditioned air from our fully factory-equipped factory. It's a beautiful car, friends, with doors to match! Birch's Blacklist says this automobile was stolen, but for you, friends, the complete price, only two thousand five hundred dollars, in easy monthly payments of twenty-five dollars a week, twice a week, and never on Sundays."

Hobbes sighed. "I highly doubt he'd take a car from a guy with an arrow going through his head," he muttered. He changed the channel.

* * *

At school, things were going no better for Calvin. He was sitting at his desk, watching people scowl. He was the only one in the entire room without a storm cloud over their head, which was a surprise, because usually it was the other way around.

Miss Wormwood was known to be a grouch, but today she was particularly evil.

"Well, class, as you know, today is a half-day, in which you all go home to have fun on Christmas and New Year's. Meanwhile, I have to grade papers, sign stuff and spend it alone."

"Ha!" shouted a voice. "That's nothing! _We_ have to spend time with relatives we don't like, get a bunch of gifts we hate, and we have to eat food we can't stomach!"

"Whoever said that gets detention!"

"Ha! I'll do you one better! I'll tee-pee your house!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

Calvin was watching this conversation with great interest.

"What's with Miss Wormwood?" he whispered to Susie.

"Back off!" Susie shouted. "Stop breathing on me!"

Calvin backed off. Normally, he didn't care what happened, so long as we was annoying Susie, but this time he felt she would actually murder him.

"Hey, Twinky!" Moe yelled.

Calvin dared to look, and Moe socked him one right in the face, and Calvin flew into the chalkboard, making it fall off.

"Detention for you, Moe!" Miss Wormwood shouted, pointing the pointer at him.

Calvin picked himself up. "It's hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning," he muttered.

Mr. Spittle burst in. "What's going on in here?" he demanded.

"Get out of here!" Miss Wormwood yelled. "This is _my_ class!"

"Well, this is my _school_!"

"Let's actually learn something today, huh?" Susie yelled.

"Shut up, this is getting good!" Candace snarled.

Soon, everyone was yelling. Mr. Spittle and Miss Wormwood were yelling about who should leave, and Susie was yelling at everyone else about education.

Calvin was the only who wasn't yelling. He was instead sitting on Miss Wormwood's desk and enjoying the show.

"What a way to spend the last of the first semester!" he chuckled.

However, it wasn't long before Moe picked up a desk and threw it at Susie. She managed to duck, and it instead smashed a table. She retaliated with her lunch box, but missed and hit the cabinet, which was knocked over, spilling its contents all over the floor. Candace picked up paper and threw it at everyone. Miss Wormwood swatted her pointer down on the desks, trying to make everyone stop and shut up. Mr. Spittle was yelling at the top of his lungs.

Calvin soon saw this could get dangerous, so he jumped off the desk and slipped on a green war helmet and drew his dart-gun, slipping out into the halls unnoticed, just as the flower pots were flung at him.

He soon saw that he wasn't alone. Several classrooms were throwing things and shouting.

"Something strange is going on here," he thought.

He picked up his backpack to use as a shield so that he could sneak out. Checking his distance, he ran towards the exit and made it safely.

"SPIFF ESCAPES!" he shouted. He ran down the road and hopped into the emergency box waiting for him. He started it up and flew off down the road for his house.

He pulled out a walkie-talkie and buzzed Hobbes, who was in the bedroom reading a comic book.

"Sharp Tooth, this is Boy Genius. Do you read?"

"Mostly I watch TV, but I do some comic book reading on the side, so—"

"Yeah, whatever. Listen, school's been getting a little off course, so I'll be home in the next few minutes."

"I'll be waiting. Over and out."

A few minutes later, Calvin landed the box outside the house and jumped out, running for the house.

"I'M HOME!" he shouted.

Hobbes pounced and blasted Calvin back into the box, and they both went tumbling around, changing the box into the Transmogrifier. There was a zap, and they both changed.

When they emerged, they were a llama and a kitten.

"Oh, this just isn't dignified," Hobbes muttered.

"Then what have we learned today?" Calvin asked.

"That box pouncing is a bad move?"

"Yes."

They both went inside and changed themselves back. Once they were back to normal, they entered the house.

Mom was surprised. "Calvin? What are you doing here? School's not out for another hour!"

"School was getting dangerous, so I got out before I got killed."

As you can imagine, Mom didn't believe a word of it. "I'm calling the school." She went to the phone.

"Aren't you going to stop her?" Hobbes asked.

"No need. This time, I'm speaking nothing but facts."

"Hello? Elementary School Front Office? Yes, my son just came home early and I just want to know if—" There was a pause as Mom's jaw dropped. "What?"

Calvin grinned at Hobbes and winked.

"Merry Christmas to me," he sang silently.


	3. Planning

The rest of that day was filled with angry yelling from Mom and Dad.

"To think we spent all that money on sending him to such a violent school!" Mom was saying.

"Well, we paid them, so, violent or not, he's going back," Dad snarled.

"Oh, sure! Just don't think about the safety of your son!"

Calvin sat in his room with Hobbes listening in on the conversation.

"Ah, music to my ears," he sighed happily. "It's so special when they yell and it's not about me."

"What's with these people?" Hobbes wondered. "After all, shouldn't Christmas be about happiness and such?"

"It's about gifts, Hobbes," Calvin said firmly. "Get that through to your head. And once Santa compares me with the rest of the town, I'll get more presents than anyone else!"

"Or maybe Santa will judge the city as a whole," Hobbes suggested. "He'll think that because they're all in a bad mood, we're in one too!"

"Pah!" Calvin scoffed. "Not likely. He monitors every single person individually."

"How do you know?"

"I read about it."

"What was this book entitled?"

"Uh… _Santa Claus Watching for Dummies_?"

"You really haven't a clue, do you?"

"Not a one."

"So then how do you know that I'm wrong?"

Calvin looked at him disdainfully. "Man, I _hate_ it when you do that."

"Glad to be of service."

Calvin looked out the window towards the sky. "So you think that if the town is in a bad mood, then we'll get bad gifts along with the rest of them?"

"It's possible, yes," Hobbes replied.

"Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?"

"How are we gonna cheer everyone up?"

* * *

"CHRISTMAS IS ON ITS WAY, SO BUCK UP SO SANTA'LL RIDE HERE IN HIS SLEIGH! I WANT YOU ALL TO BE HAPPY SO THAT I CAN GET MY THERMONUCLEAR WEAPONRY!"

Calvin and Hobbes were out on the street, and Calvin was wearing a halo over his head and had cardboard angel wings on his shoulders. He sang loudly and off-key. Hobbes sat near him, covering his ears.

"Calvin, how is this supposed to make everyone happy?" he asked.

"Simple: everyone will realize that my gifts may not come, based on their attitudes, and therefore, they'll sympathize with my problem, and then they'll cheer up so that I can get my gifts."

"That has got to be the dumbest idea ever."

"It is not."

He turned back to the street and threw his head back.

"EVERYBODY NEEDS TO SMILE SO SANTA CLAUS WILL FLY THE MILE! I WANT THOSE GIFTS ON CHRISTMAS MORN, SO EVERYONE STOP BEING FORLORN!"

"Shut up!" someone shouted.

Calvin was instantly creamed by a snowball.

"Is too," Hobbes snorted.

"I don't get it," Calvin sighed, wiping the show off of his face. "Caroling is the ultimate source of Christmas joy! Especially when they're about me!"

"Where's the joy in all this again?"

"Shut up. Let's get started on Plan B."

"Which is?"

"I'll let you know when I think of it."

They walked down the street to Brown's General Store which was a block away.

"What are we doing here?" asked Hobbes.

"Well, as its Christmas, I feel we should get some candy canes."

"Okay."

They entered the store and went to the rack that held the giant candy canes. While Calvin was paying for them, Hobbes looked at the bulletin board that was on the wall near the door. It had a lot of papers tacked on, but there was a poster that caught his attention.

"Boy, even Brown himself is in a bad mood," Calvin muttered, handing Hobbes a candy cane.

"Calvin, look at this."

Calvin looked at the bulletin board. There was a poster that said _UPCOMING CHRISTMAS PAGEANT THIS SATURDAY AT 5:OO. PLEASE SEE AT THE TOWN SQUARE._

"What about it?" Calvin asked. "It's just that same pageant that Mom and Dad drag me to every year."

"But it could be helpful this year. If we can just send out a message, letting people know that this bad mood is going to plague us all, maybe they'll snap out of it."

"That's a dumb plan, Hobbes, but unfortunately, it's all we have to work with."

"Thanks."

So as they left the store, they knew they had a mission. That called for one thing:

* * *

"ATTENTION! ATTENTION!" Calvin said. "This meeting of the Get Rid Of Slimy girlS Club will now come to order, Dictator-for-Life Calvin presiding!"

"Hear, hear!" said Hobbes.

"Today's meeting shall be about our plans to restore the Christmas Spirit and save the winter holiday before we get nothing but coal and whips," Calvin started. "We have decided to send a message through the upcoming Christmas pageant this Saturday, and we need to know how to do it. Any suggestions?"

There was a pause.

Hobbes finally raised his hand.

"First Tiger Hobbes?" Calvin asked.

"Maybe you participate in the pageant?"

Calvin gave him a blank stare.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"No, I'm not. It'd be an easy way to do it."

"But I'm not comfortable wearing stupid outfits in front of masses of people like that?"

"But then how do you explain the Noodle Incident?"

"THAT WASN'T _ME_! THAT WAS AN IMPOSTER!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. But think about Christmas! It's completely stink for you if you don't come up with a way to persuade these people to buck up."

Calvin rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll do it, but if I get laughed at, it'll be your head."

"What an honor," Hobbes muttered.

"Okay, men, you have your assignment!" Calvin declared. "Let's hop to it! Meeting adjourned."


	4. Preperations

Calvin entered town that afternoon and went into the auditorium. Lots of people of all ages were there. He approached the signup sheet and wrote his name down. Then he looked around for the one in charge.

"I SEEK THE LEADER OF THIS SISSY PLAY!" he shouted.

Some guy wearing poofy brown pants and strange hat approached him. "May I help you?" he asked.

Calvin arched an eyebrow. "Why aren't you grumpy like everyone else?"

"Because I'm a good actor! I know that one day my acting skills will drag me out of this RAT HOLE TOWN! But until then, I'm suppressing it until the season is over. Now, what may I do for you?"

Calvin rolled his eyes and looked at him.

"I'd like a role in your stupid play, please."

"Well, we're doing the Christmas Carol this year," said the director. "Any particular role you'd like to play?"

"Well, I'm not too clear on the story, but I think a good role for me would be the guy who gets the message across about Christmas."

"That would have to be the one known as Bob Cratchet, the poor man that works for Ebenezer Scrooge."

"I see. How much time does he get onstage?"

"About ten minutes per each of scenes."

"Perfect! That should be enough to get my message across," Calvin decided.

"What message?"

Calvin looked around uneasily.

"Um, I plan to yell 'Hi, Mom!' like those guys on the Super Bowl."

"Okay, well, have fun."

The director walked away to see to some matters.

"Excellent," Calvin grinned. "At this rate I shall have saved Christmas. Now I just need to figure out what it is that I'm going to say."

"Maybe you could say that you're an utter loser," said Susie, who was passing by.

Calvin shot Susie a look. "You just wait, Derkins! By this Saturday, I will have brought the joy of December 25 to this sad little town, and Santa will bring me all the gifts I asked for! That'll prove that I'm not some utter loser! IT IS _YOU_ WHO IS THE UTTER LOSER, DERKINS! BWA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, _HA_!"

After all the yelling was finally over, he simply scratched the back of ear and walked back down the street towards his house, not noticing passers looking at him.

* * *

Once he was home, Calvin entered the kitchen. 

"Hey, Mom? I'm going to be in the pageant this Saturday, so I'll need a costume. I'm playing some guy named Crotchet."

"Calvin, I'm too busy to concentrate on a stupid play," Mom replied. "I'm busy with baking."

"What for?"

"Well, baking is a Christmas tradition. There are cakes, cookies, pies, fudge, you name it."

Calvin reached for a cookie.

"And what are _you_ doing?" Mom asked, glaring at him.

"Just keeping the tradition alive."

"No cookies, Calvin. I made them; I'll _eat _them."

"Well, that's not fair!"

"Oh, yeah?" Mom growled. She took a cookie and ate it right in front of Calvin's face.

"Oh, that hurts," Calvin replied.

So while Mom was turned away, Calvin swiped one of the chocolate fudge pies and snuck it upstairs.

Hobbes was upstairs reading a comic book.

"I wonder what Amazon Girl would look like if she had a goatee," he pondered, pulling out his fountain pen.

Calvin burst into the room, and Hobbes threw the comic book to the floor.

"Pie, Hobbes?"

"Yes, please."

Calvin placed the pie on the bed and they started to eat it.

"Okay, so I'm playing the role of a Rob Crotchet in the Christmas Carol," Calvin said. "He's supposed to get the message out of what Christmas really means."

"He says that Christmas is about love and giving," Hobbes said.

"Well, I'll have to edit the script a little," Calvin decided.

"HEY! MY PIE IS GONE! _CALVIN_!" Mom shouted.

Calvin and Hobbes dove their faces into the pie and started to snarf it down. In three seconds, it was gone.

Mom barged upstairs and burst into the bedroom.

"Calvin, where's my pie?" she asked in a dangerous calm.

"Uh, in the kitchen?"

"No, I had five pies, and now there are four. Where is it?"

"I dunno. Maybe you should check with Dad."

Mom scowled and left the room.

Hobbes clutched his stomach. "Okay, maybe we shouldn't have eaten it so fast," he moaned.

Calvin groaned. "Yeah, ain't Christmas great?"

And with that, they went to the treehouse.

"Okay, now that our little moment of indigestion is over, we need to figure out what it is that I'm exactly going to say."

"How about 'Cheer up for my own selfish reasons'?" suggested Hobbes.

"Hobbes, how about being serious for once? The fate of my presents is resting on this."

"Yeah, sure. How about 'it's not about spending money on a bunch of junk you'll find in their closet years later; it's about spending time with your loved ones and showing them you care'."

Calvin and Hobbes looked at each other for a brief moment before they burst out laughing.

"Okay, that was funny. But really, what should I say?"

"Let's watch a lot of Christmas specials and find out."

"But we only get basic television. We don't even have basic cable! It's just basic _free_ television."

"That's the problem with your dad. He's always been cheap. He's never bought anything that he thought he could get for free."

"Yeah, he's never been easy to go shopping with. He thinks a twenty-five cent jawbreaker is overpriced."

"So that's why he's been cranky during the holidays: he gets uptight over prices!" Hobbes said.

"Yeah, and Mom is over-the-top because of all that baking she has to do!" said Calvin.

Calvin and Hobbes paused for a moment.

"Hobbes, I have a new plan! How about we find out what everyone's problems are, and then fix them! That'll be easier than a stupid play!"

"But you already signed up!"

"I'll drop out and have the understudy take my place. After the onion incident, I don't think I should be onstage."

"And how."

"CALVIN!" This time, Dad had just angrily shouted his name.

Calvin quickly ducked down in the treehouse.

Dad stomped outside and looked up. "I see your hair, Calvin."

"Tis the price for beauty," Calvin muttered.

Hobbes rolled his eyes.

"Calvin, did you accuse me of stealing a pie?" Dad demanded.

"Dad, you're about as guilty as a fat cat in a canary cage," Calvin replied.

"What did you say?" Dad asked through clenched teeth.

"Just name the punishment and be done with it."

Calvin was in his room seconds later with Hobbes being thrown in with him.

"That was smooth," Hobbes muttered.


	5. Cooking With Calvin

The next day, Calvin wandered into the kitchen to find Mom was busy baking some more. Goodies stacked high along the counter and tabletops like crates in a dockyard. Cakes, cookies, pies, fudges and even candy canes!

"How do you bake candy canes?" Hobbes whispered.

"Don't ask. Just be nice."

"Isn't that like calling the kettle black?"

"Back off and let the master in."

Calvin walked forward.

Hobbes paused for a moment and looked around. "Where's this master I was informed of?" he mumbled.

Calvin approached Mom. "Hey, Mom? Need some help?"

"No. Go away."

"But I wanna help!"

"No."

"But I—"

"No."

"I wanna—"

"No."

"But I just—"

"No."

"I'LL COOK EVERYTHING ACCORDING TO THE BOOK FOR FREE WHILE YOU DO SOMETHING YOU LIKE!"

"Fine."

Mom grabbed a book and left for the living room.

"Wow, that went over better than I thought it would," commented Hobbes.

"Okay, what should we bake first?" Calvin wondered.

Hobbes grabbed a notepad from the table. It had a list of goodies on it and places they had to go.

"Okay, we need a cake for the Susie, brownies for Moe, Rosalyn needs a pecan pie, and Miss Wormwood wants five cakes, fifty brownies, three pecan pies and a chocolate chip cookie."

"Wow, I never would have thought she had such a large family," Calvin commented. "Okay, let's get started. First, we need to make that cake."

"Okay," Hobbes said, pulling out the cookbook. "First we need a mixing bowl, measuring spoons, a cake pan and a measuring cup."

Calvin flew through the cupboards and pulled out everything. Except measuring spoons.

"I couldn't find them, so I just got different spoons."

"It could work. Next we need milk, eggs, flour, sugar, vanilla and butter," Hobbes said.

Calvin jumped into the fridge and got what he could.

"We only had skim milk. You think that'll work?"

Hobbes gave him a look. "No."

"Well then, we're in trouble."

"Okay, fine. Put in the skim. We need two cups worth."

Calvin did so, and then the wreck began.

When he had to melt the stick of butter, he forgot to put in the measuring cup, so he got butter all over the microwave. He still managed to get half of it in the bowl. Then he broke half a dozen eggs until finally he got in two that were presentable enough. Next he got flour and sugar all over the floor. He looked like a ghost and was extremely hyper. Finally, they put in the vanilla, but Calvin overloaded it, and put in the whole bottle.

They took the pan and started to mix it all together, and then they tossed in the oven.

"You haven't explained how we're going to do this without running out of ingredients," said Hobbes.

"It's quite simple, Hobbes. Thanks to a cardboard box of mine, it won't be a problem."

"You mean…?"

"Well, I don't know. What do you think I mean?"

"I think you mean that we're using the Duplicator to make more of these cakes so that we don't waste anymore than we already have."

"Huh? Hey, that's a great idea! I was going to suggest using the Transmogrifier to turn random household objects into ingredients!"

Hobbes held the bridge of his nose, groaning.

Calvin ran upstairs and got the cardboard box.

When the cake came out, Hobbes (wearing oven mitts) placed the pan under the Duplicator. Calvin pressed the button, making the "boink" noise. When Calvin pulled the box off, he pulled out six.

"Okay, I'm going to deliver these to the houses," Calvin said. "You get started on the brownies."

"Whatever," said Hobbes, flipping through cookbook.

Calvin loaded the cakes up into the wagon and started to patrol towards Susie's, who was two houses down. He punched his fists into the door.

"CAKE DELIVERY!" he yelled.

Susie opened the door. She looked like she'd been run through a trash compactor.

"Whoa, what happened to you?" Calvin asked.

"Nothing. What do you want?"

Calvin picked up a cake. "Here, from my mom and dad from the bottom of their hearts, I present you with a fudge cake, yadda, yadda, etcetera, etcetera, ya get it, here ya go." He shoved the cake into Susie's hands.

Susie raised her eyebrows quizzically. The cake smelled strange and it was a little too lumpy.

"Who made this?"

"Mom," Calvin said quickly. "Well, gotta go. Bye."

And with that, he pulled the door shut quickly for her.

"And away we go," he said, hauling the other five to Miss Wormwood's.

Not surprisingly, he got the same reaction when he got there, but it was a little more rushed.

* * *

When he finally returned, Calvin found the kitchen to be an absolute mess. More than before even!

Hobbes was wearing a white chef's hat as he pulled a brown substance out of the oven and headed for the Duplicator.

"What the heck happened in here?" Calvin asked.

"Oh good, you're here!" said Hobbes. "Be a good boy and turn the oven off."

Calvin looked at the mess about him as he closed the oven.

"As I was saying, WHAT DID YOU DO!" he shouted.

Hobbes wiped the spit off of his face with his poofy white hat.

"Well, I accidentally dropped Alka-Seltzer into the first batch, so it kind of exploded. This one went over a bit better. I had plenty of eggs, flour and sugar, but we ran out of skim milk, so I had to replace it with butter milk."

"Well, I suppose its butter and milk in one," Calvin decided. "But why didn't you use the brownie mix?"

"That's what exploded," Hobbes replied.

"Very well. Moe's mom wanted one tray of brownies, and Miss Wormwood wanted fifty. I think it's strange. She must be throwing a party."

Once they had fifty-one trays of brownies, they stacked them into the wagon.

Calvin took off down the street as fast as he could.

When he got to Moe's door, he pounded on the door as hard as he could.

Moe opened it. "What do _you_ want, Twinky?" he snarled.

Calvin quickly shoved a tray of brownies into his hands.

"From Mom and Dad, I give you brownies. Enjoy. Sayonara!"

Calvin blasted from the door like a torpedo.

Moe looked unwillingly at the strange-looking brownies.

* * *

After dropping off the rest at Miss Wormwood's, Calvin ran back to his own house, exhausted.

He found Hobbes was waiting for the pecan pie to finish, and in the meantime, he was attempting to clean up the mess.

"Well, I'm beat. When'll that pie be finished? Rosalyn's probably waiting like mad!"

"No doubt," replied Hobbes. "It'll be ready any second now. In the period in-between, hand me that sponge."

Calvin grabbed a damp sponge out of the water-filled bucket and handed it to him. Hobbes resumed cleaning.

There was a _DING_, and Calvin opened the oven. He tossed it under the Duplicator, and with a "boink", he pulled out three. With the addition of a chocolate cookie, he set off for the houses once more.

Calvin ran up Rosalyn's doorstep.

"Stupendous Man looks into the Evil Babysitter Girl's secret hideout," he said to himself. "There are motion detectors everywhere."

Calvin ducked below a window where Rosalyn's parents were near.

"After stupendously defeating the guards, our hero must cut this adventure short. If he wants to defeat the Crab Teacher, he must get past Evil Babysitter Girl. In order to do that, he must lure her to a sedative."

He placed the pecan pie on the doorstep with a note on it. Then, wagon handle in hand, he pressed the doorbell and ran.

By the time Rosalyn got there, he was out of sight. She found the pie, but it looked a little misshapen, and not in a good way. She took it in anyway.

"Evil Babysitter Girl takes the bait!" Calvin crowed. "Now to defeat the Crab Teacher and her treacherous minions."

Calvin ran up Miss Wormwood's walk and banged on the door.

Miss Wormwood approached. "Did you include the cookie?" she asked.

"Yeah, I got the goods, Crab Teacher," Calvin said heroically. "Now give me the information I need!"

"What?"

Calvin shook his head lightly. "I mean, yes I did. Please take these, as courtesy of my parents. Again. Now take these to your guests."

"What guests?"

"You don't have a party in there?"

"No."

"Then why did you want so much…?"

It took a minute to realize it, but then he got the picture.

"Oh, that's right. Tis the season to overindulge, huh?"

Miss Wormwood grabbed the pies (and cookie) and put Calvin in the wagon, pushing it away. She slammed the door.

"Also 'tis the season to be crabby."

* * *

When Calvin returned to his house, he was surprised to find a mob of people at the door. He saw Hobbes sitting in the snow nearby.

"Hobbes, what's going on?"

"Apparently, everyone's mad at your mom."

Mom and Dad were at the door, frantically trying to calm everyone down.

"Will you all calm down?" Mom shouted.

"We're getting frantic!" added Dad.

"Our fudge cake tasted like cement!" yelled Susie.

"Our brownies tasted like turpentine!" added Moe.

"Our pecan pie tasted like grapes!" said Rosalyn.

Calvin stared at Hobbes. "You never did tell me what you put in the pie," he said suspiciously.

"Well, we didn't have any pecans," Hobbes said sheepishly. "Grapes were the closet things on hand."

"We didn't make the food you got," Mom shouted. "Calvin made it all!"

"YOU TRUSTED OUR SON IN THE KITCHEN!" Dad hollered.

"WELL, I WAS DESPERATE FOR SOME TIME TO MYSELF!"

All eyes whirled around at Calvin.

Calvin looked for Hobbes. He had disappeared.

Mom and Dad stomped towards Calvin.

"For one thing, we're mad you messed up the kitchen and wasted food," said Mom, "but you've also ruined our bake run this year! Now I've got to make the food for the neighbors all over again, but I can't until I've made a run to a store tomorrow!"

"Calvin, you are to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Plus, you are grounded until I say otherwise," Dad said through clenched teeth.

Calvin would normally have done something to get out of trouble. But not this time. He simply looked Dad in the face and said, "Fine."

Mom and Dad looked flabbergasted. "That's it?" asked Mom.

"Yes, I don't need to argue. I ruined Christmas by trying to get all of you to cheer up and be nice to each other and not make Santa think we were all bad. But instead, I realize that I shouldn't have tried to help. So instead of an argument, I'm just going to go to my room and be quiet."

With that, he walked past his dumb-struck parents, as well as a bunch of people, who had also listened to him and were no quieted down.

No one knew what to say.

* * *

Calvin spent half the night cleaning the kitchen. He didn't see Hobbes during the duration.

He finally found him in bed. He simply got into his purple pajamas, got under the covers with Hobbes, turned out the light and went to sleep.

There was a brief pause in the dark before Hobbes turned the light back on.

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! WHY AREN'T YOU YELLING AT ME! WHY AREN'T YOU COMPLAINING THAT YOU GOT BLAMED FOR WHAT I DID! I WANT ANSWERS NOW!"

"What's there to be said?" Calvin asked. "We failed, Hobbes. We tried to do something right, and it blew up in our faces. We just have to accept defeat."

Hobbes looked upset.

"But I thought you said you wanted gifts."

"Who cares about that anymore? What matters is that a dark cloud now hangs over the city, and it's all my fault."

"Not necessarily," Hobbes said. "Maybe we can fix everything!"

"How?"

"Well, there's always Plan A!"

"You mean the pageant?"

"Right!"

"But I don't wanna go onstage in front of a bunch of grumps!"

"Calvin, it could work! You just have to try! You always say that we must take all options into consideration!"

Calvin sighed. "Okay, fine. Plan A is back on. I'll start rehearsal tomorrow."


	6. Lots of Writing

The next morning, Calvin and Hobbes went outside and prepared for the play. Calvin was wearing his Bob Cratchet costume, which was a bunch of his old clothes professionally torn up by Hobbes.

"Okay, you be Scrooge," Calvin said. "You walk in, grumbling about the cold, and I ask what's wrong with you."

"Okay."

Hobbes quickly rubbed his face, getting his fur all rustled up. He bared sharp teeth, long claws, and yellowish eyes.

"BRRRR!" he shouted. "It is cold! I may have frostbite. Bug Humbar and whatnot!"

Calvin stared at him. "Bah Humbug," he corrected.

"What's that mean?"

"No, that's what you're supposed to say: Bah Humbug."

"That's what I said: Bug Humbar."

"Well, what does Bug Humbar mean?"

"What does Bah Humbug mean?"

Calvin slapped his forehead. "Just stick to the script and don't skip anything. And no improvising snowball fights unless I say so."

Hobbes dropped the snowball in his hand and resumed. "Okay, after the bug stuff, we move on to the part with the coal."

"Okay."

Calvin pulled a feather out of his pocket and waved it around.

"Good morning, Mr. Scrooge," he said in a voice that was higher than usual.

Hobbes looked down at him. "That voice is so high it could shatter paper," he said to himself. He resumed. "Bug Humbar. Get to work, Crotchet. You've got more paperwork."

"Mr. Scrooge, it is awfully cold in here. Might you give me yet another piece of coal for the stove?"

"NO! GET TO WORK! WE NEED NOT WASTE ANY COAL!" Hobbes shouted.

Calvin cleaned his ear out. "Okay, I apologize."

Hobbes went over to another part of the yard and pretended to work.

"Okay, that's good enough," Calvin decided.

Hobbes' head shot up. "Huh?"

"Yeah, I figure I should basically just get to the part where I say that Christmas is a time for happiness and joy and gifts and gastronomical prices on the Wal-Mart receipt."

"But what about the play?"

"Well, I've never been one to enjoy plays very much, so I'm planning on just skipping that part."

"What do you plan on doing when the director runs onstage and yells at you for ruining his dream?"

"Ah, guys like him have dreams to accomplish at least every two days. He'll be fine."

Hobbes rolled his eyes.

Calvin went back into the house. When he got there, he found that the house was twice as bustle as it was the day before.

Mom was baking up a storm to make up for what had happened last night. Dad was working furiously with his checkbook, going through receipts and the like.

Hoping to avoid conflict, Calvin and Hobbes slipped quietly past them. They scurried up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"Gee, what with all this conflict, I've forgotten to tell Santa what I want for Christmas!" Calvin cried. "We need to get started."

Calvin jumped into the desk chair and pulled out paper and pencil.

"Dear Santa, this year for Christmas, there's something I'd really like, so get your pen out. Please don't bring me another bike. I don't need ugly sweaters and I don't play much basketball. But there's something kind of special that I want most of all. I want an alien for Christmas. Bring me an _alien_ this year. I want a little green guy about three feet high with seventeen eyes who knows how to fly. I want an alien for Christmas this year."

Hobbes stared at the letter Calvin was writing.

Calvin continued to write. "He can live in the bathtub, so don't worry about a thing, and I'll take him out for walks when it gets nicer in the spring. I'll always keep him company; he'll never be alone. And we can hang around the house all day. We can watch the Twilight Zone."

Hobbes rolled his eyes. "You want an alien for Christmas? Bring you an _alien_ this year?" he questioned. "You want a little green guy about three feet high with seventeen eyes who knows how to fly?"

"I want an alien for Christmas this year," Calvin concluded.

"So you're asking Santa to bring you one of your own kind?"

"Shut up and help me with this. What else should I ask for?"

"How about better acting skills?"

"Hobbes, I need _material_ items, not something that doesn't exist. I think I'll ask for an atomic nuclear missile launcher? I figure one minute with one of those babies would make up for this entire lousy month!"

"Yes, heaven knows you will have earned it," Hobbes said sarcastically.

"Hey, after I've fixed everyone, I will have."

"But shouldn't we be worried about that right now? Instead of planning, you're making a list of demands from the man you're trying to convince! This isn't going to make it easier to sway him."

Calvin looked up and dropped the pencil he was writing.

"You're right, Hobbes. We have a mission to get the sugarplums back into everyone's dreams, and here I am just thinking of myself."

"Technically that's what you were doing before this, but yeah."

Calvin tossed the list aside and pulled out another sheet of paper.

"Quick! We need to figure out what I'm going to say! The pageant is tomorrow!" he cried.

Hobbes thought hard.

"Um, okay, how about 'come on, be happy'?"

"Good, good, but it's not enough. Keep going!" Calvin said, scribbling down into the notepad.

"Okay, 'my devilishly handsome tiger and I are coming to you all on bended knees, asking that you look deep inside yourself and try to find that good ol' Christmas spirit. You've all been plagued by the Bug Humbar Bug, and we come to you with an antidote. As we end these four weeks of endeavor, we would like to remind you all that the spirit of Christmas not only lies within your shopping bags and checkbooks, but also in your hearts. Search deep inside yourself and you shall find that one shred of humanity that shows that you really do care, and that will be a sign that you understand. I want the usual: domination of Earth, happiness at the expense of others and personal ego gratification.'"

"Hey!"

"'But I also want to feel greater love and understanding for other people. Even obnoxious and cynical people like you lot, and people who laugh at me for being an idealistic simpleton. Merry Christmas to you all and to you all a good afternoon.'"

Calvin stared at him.

"You think I'm an idealistic simpleton?"

"And you wish to feel greater love and understanding for me," Hobbes replied.

Calvin looked at what he'd written. "Are you sure this is what the people want?"

"It's either that or we sing Silent Night, and you've never been able to sing that one part where your voice has to get really high."

"Hey, just wait until my voice changes. I'll show you!"

They looked at the notepad.

"Are you sure that I can't just throw slush balls at everyone to knock some sense into them?"

Hobbes gave him a stern look.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Calvin sighed. He stuffed the notepad into his back pocket and they went back downstairs.

They knewexactly what they had to do.


	7. Life Has Been Good To Me

IT WAS PLAY NIGHT!

Pageant night; whatever.

It was time for Calvin to win over the heats of millions (or tens) and save his gifts!

When they got to the town square, there were chairs everywhere in the middle of town, and a giant stage had been set up. Calvin and Hobbes went to the backstage part of the stage (backstage, I think they call it).

Calvin peeked out into the crowd nervously. He was wearing his Bob Cratchet costume, and he was waiting anxiously for the play to start.

Hobbes was standing next to him reading a magazine.

"What do I do if I mess up?" Calvin asked.

"Who cares?"

"_I_ do! If I screw this up, there won't be any gifts for us on Christmas!"

"Do you have the notepad with your speech on it?"

Calvin pulled the yellow piece of paper.

"Got it right here. Now go sit in the audience."

Hobbes nodded and returned to the crowd, sitting in an empty chair next to Mom and Dad. He was surprised to find a familiar brown-haired boy and his hamster sitting nearby.

"Andy? Sherman?" he asked. "What are you two doing here?"

"My parents made me come," said Andy.

"And Andy made _me_ come," Sherman snarled. "And I only agreed so I could see Calvin fall flat on his face on stage."

"Actually Calvin is trying to make everyone see the true spirit of Christmas," Hobbes replied.

"HA! What a lark!" scoffed Sherman. "Calvin is so selfish. He's probably going to read his Christmas list off in front of everybody."

Hobbes grabbed Sherman from Andy's shoulder. He took a deep breath and blew into his face. A horrible stench emitted from Hobbes' mouth, and Sherman gagged.

"Okay! I give! I give!" he squeaked.

Hobbes shrugged and placed the hamster back on Andy's shoulder.

"Thank you, tuna breathe," Hobbes muttered.

Andy looked around the crowds of people. The odd thing was that they weren't as grouchy as they had been just days ago. In fact, they all looked happy. No one was insulting the other. They weren't punching or yelling. Snowballs weren't being thrown. Even Moe seemed like he was festive in his elf costume!

"Hobbes?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"You said Calvin was trying to get everyone to get into the Christmas spirit, right?"

"I believe I did, yes."

"What for? Everyone seems rather cheerful."

"Huh?"

"Look!"

Hobbes looked around. Even though no one was looking at him, he saw nothing but smiles and heard nothing but laughter.

"Strange," he commented. He then remembered the baking accident, and he remembered that little speech Calvin had given, and how everyone had been rather speechless by his strange act of maturity. Maybe that single act of adulthood had caused everyone to see the error of their ways already!

"Uh-oh," Hobbes moaned, glancing nervously at the stage. The curtain was pulling up.

"Oh boy," Sherman chuckled lightly, munching on popcorn.

Calvin was sitting at the work desk writing with a feather.

Suddenly, the door on the fake wall opened, and out came a hand, which tossed powder and sugar into the air to create the allusion that snow was blowing.

Following the hand was a kid with buck teeth dressed up as Ebenezer Scrooge.

"Good morning, Mr. Scrooge," said Calvin in a fake-Britt.

"Bah Humb—" said the kid, who suddenly froze.

BOOM!

Calvin looked up.

The buck-toothed kid had frozen.

"Talk about stage fright," he commented.

Then he noticed that everyone in the crowd had stopped moving!

He then felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Hobbes, Andy and Sherman!

"What are you idiots doing up here?" he demanded.

"Pausing time, what else?" asked Andy, as if it were obvious.

"Calvin, we're aborting the mission," Hobbes said. "Everyone is already feeling the Christmas spirit! We don't need to do the pageant!"

Calvin's eyes turned dark. "What did you just say?" he snarled. "You mean that I went to all that trouble of thinking for nothing!"

"Apparently so," said Sherman. "Funny, isn't it?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Calvin demanded. "I can't just leave! They're expecting me to perform, and I don't think I can cheat my way out of this one. Plus, Santa's watching!"

"Well, there's always you're chance to become a Busby Berkley Dancer," said Sherman, continuing to mock.

Calvin's head shot up to glare at the smart-aleck hamster, but then he said, "Sherman, you're a genius!"

"He is?" asked Hobbes and Andy together.

"About time you came to your senses," said Sherman smugly.

"Sherman, hold the ego for just a few minutes. We have stuff to get, and thanks to the Time Pauser, we now have that."

"What do you mean?"

Calvin quickly explained the plan. "Andy, we're going to need your DVD Player and _3rd Rock From the Sun_, Season 2, Disc Four, Title Seven, and Chapter 2."

Andy nodded.

"Sherman, we're going to need five miles of extension cord from your house the stage."

Sherman snorted but agreed.

"Hobbes, you and I are gonna run back to my place to get special clothes and props. I'm gonna dance my way to success."

Hobbes grinned. This was a good plan.

* * *

Calvin, Hobbes, Andy and Sherman worked as hard as they could prepare. They had all the time in the world with time paused, so they could resume whenever.

Soon, Calvin and Hobbes had completely redecorated the stage from miserable accounting office to weird-looking city.

Andy put the disc in the Sony DVD Player, and Sherman hooked it all up with the proper cables. Calvin told them to Fast-Forward to a certain part in the show. Then Hobbes decked him up in an orange suit with a yellow shirt underneath and a gray bowler hat.

Hobbes then pulled the curtains closed.

Calvin gave Hobbes the thumbs-up to unpause time.

Hobbes took the Time Pauser and hit the red button on top.

They heard gasps from outside.

"Let's hope this works," Hobbes said.

Everyone was questioning what was happening when suddenly, Andy was shoved out in front of everyone.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen," said Andy. "Due to circumstances beyond our control, we've got to cancel this year's play / pageant."

Everyone groaned.

Andy held up his hands to silence everyone.

"Instead, we've got our very own Calvin performing a Busby Berkley Song Routine from the hit show _3rd Rock From the Sun_, sung by French Stewart; _Life Has Been Good to Me_. So please enjoy it, because we spent a long time on this."

Everyone shrugged and clapped.

Andy walked offstage.

Sherman turned on a spotlight.

Hobbes crossed his fingers.

Music started to play in the form of a piano and trumpets.

Calvin tap danced out in front of everybody and tipped his hat, and he lip-synched the whole song.

_Life has been good to me._

_I got very few complaints so far._

_Life has been good to me._

_Hope you're as happy wherever you are!_

_I got the blue sky every morning._

_A big yellow moon at night._

_I always do whatever I want to._

_And everything I do; it always turns out right!_

Calvin broke into a tap dance number.

_Hey, hey!_

_Hey, hey!_

_Hey, hey!_

_Hey, hey!_

_Hey, hey!_

_Hey, hey!_

_Hey, hey!_

_Hey, Hey!_

Calvin then started to walk around the fake city.

_Life has been good to me._

_Man, I wouldn't change a thing._

_Life has been good to me._

_Can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring._

Hobbes started pulling on a rope and a cardboard rain cloud came out. Andy had attached a hose to it and he turned it on.

Calvin pulled out an umbrella and continued.

_In every life, a little rain must surely fall._

_I'm here to say that there's a rainbow just around every corner._

The cloud went away and Calvin tossed the umbrella behind himself.

The scene behind him moved and changed to underwater scenery.

Hobbes, Andy and Sherman blew bubbles everywhere.

_Life has been good to me._

_Well, I'll admit I've had a ball._

_Ha, ha, ha, ha!_

_Life has been good to me._

_I never worry 'bout nothin' at all!_

Then everything changed again, and a fake piano with a fake Randy Newman appeared, and Calvin leaned against it.

_I got some good friends._

_They adore me._

_And know how to treat me right._

_I got a good gal waiting for me._

_I won every fight I've been in._

_And it always turns out that I was right._

_Ah!_

Then the fake props disappeared and out came the city again. Calvin started dancing all over the place.

_Hey, hey._

_Hey, hey._

_Hey, hey._

_Life has been good to me._

_Life has been good to me._

When the song ended, everyone applauded. It got a standing ovation.

Hobbes, Andy and Sherman clapped and whistled.

Calvin grinned proudly. He'd done it. He'd saved Christmas _and_ finished what he'd started.

"You did good, Cal, you did good," said Hobbes.

"Thanks pal, and now there's only one thing left to do."

"What's that?" asked Sherman.


	8. Christmas Morning

Calvin yawned and managed to wake himself up. He looked over at the clock. It read six o'clock a.m. He looked over at the calendar. It read 12/25/05.

"Sweet sister mother of mercy!" he cried. "It's Christmas! Wake up, Hobbes!"

Hobbes came to. "Is it?"

"It is!"

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!" they screamed together.

Calvin and Hobbes jumped out of bed and ran into the next bedroom. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" they shouted. "IT'S CHRISTMAS! IT'S CHRISTMAS! SANTA CAME! SANTA CAME! HE BROUGHT US—!"

They both froze in position. They looked at each other.

"Wait a minute! _Did_ he bring us stuff!" Calvin gasped.

"There's only one way to find out," replied Hobbes.

So, leaving two rather-trampled parents in bed, they scrambled downstairs.

But right before they got to the Christmas tree, Calvin stopped Hobbes.

"What are you doing?" Hobbes asked.

"Before we do this, I just want to say that it's been a very long and strange journey getting this far," Calvin said. "It's been an honor working with you, and no matter what the results, I'm proud to call you my best friend ever."

"Same here pal," grinned Hobbes. "Now what say we see the results of all our hard work?"

Calvin and Hobbes walked slowly down towards the tree.

"I can't look," whimpered Calvin. "Tell me." He covered his eyes.

Hobbes shrugged and took a good look at the tree. He peered down under the tree.

"Okay, I see brightly colored boxes, but nothing to be confirmed yet," he said.

He picked a box up and looked at it.

"We have a gift with your name on it!"

Calvin opened his eyes. "Really!" He dove into the pile of gifts.

After a lot of digging, he pulled out another one!

"Hey! This one has _your_ name on it!" he cried.

Hobbes swiped the small box away from him. "Say what!" he cried.

"Your first gift from Santa," breathed Calvin.

Hobbes paused a moment before he pulled on the ribbon, and the wrapping paper came off. His eyes went wide.

"Holy mackerel," he gasped. "It's…it's…the Entire Encyclopedia of Mountain Cats, Jungle Cats and Cat Cats! The best book ever written in the entire history of forever!"

Mom and Dad came downstairs.

"About time you two showed up!" Calvin shouted. "Hobbes got a gift from Santa!"

Mom and Dad sighed and lay down on the couch.

Calvin dug through the gifts. He found several for him, and he piled them all up. The slaughter was on. While Mom and Dad sat on the couch, drifting back to sleep, Calvin found that he had received three packs of Captain Napalm trading cards, Captain Maim the Board Game, a box of crayons from his grandparents, a kaleidoscope, new wagon wheels, a joke book, a pack of water balloons and a telescope.

Calvin sighed. "Well, these gifts are all well and good, but still no thermonuclear missiles this year."

"And you know, we haven't exchanged our _own_ gifts," said Hobbes.

"Oh, I almost forgot."

The two friends reached across and hugged each other tightly.

It was then that Hobbes noticed something in the tree branches.

"Huh, that's odd."

"What's odd?" asked Calvin.

Hobbes reached into the tree and pulled something out. It was an envelope. It was light blue with pen-written stationary. The return address: North Pole.

Calvin gasped. "It's a letter from Santa!"

Hobbes slowly opened it and read aloud.

"Dear Calvin and Hobbes. You two did a very good job this Christmas by restoring the joy of the holiday spirit into the hearts of your town. Although some don't know it was you who did it, you've truly made this a wonderful Christmas, and you both should be proud. I hope you enjoy the gifts I brought you, but unfortunately my elves were unable to fabricate those heat-seeking missiles you asked for, but I did what I could. Have a Merry Christmas. From, Santa Claus."

Calvin stared at the note. "So _that's_ why I never get that stuff!" he exclaimed. "He only gives out what the elves can make, and he makes up for that other stuff with bonuses. What a holiday!"

"Wait, there's more," said Hobbes. "PS, if you want to see your extra-special gift, it's waiting for you in the treehouse."

"Extra-special gift?" they said together.

They got up and ran outside and looked around. They saw they treehouse and climbed up as quickly as they could.

Calvin stared.

Hobbes stared.

Was that what they thought it was?

"It's a…catapult?" asked Hobbes.

"It…it is!" cried Calvin.

It only took them a few seconds to get it down. They made several snowballs and piled them into it. Then when Moe passed by, Calvin pulled the rope that released it, and several snowballs came raining down on him!

"THIS IS THE GREATEST CHRISTMAS EVER!" Calvin shouted.

"Oh, by the way, you never told me what you did with the cast from the play," said Hobbes.

Calvin's eyes popped open. "Uh, oh," he mumbled.

* * *

Across town, the entire cast from the play was banging on the door of the auditorium.

"Open up!" cried the director. "My dream is waiting for me!"

"I have gifts to unwrap!" whined the kid dressed as Ebenezer Scrooge.

"_I_ have to go to the bathroom," said another kid.

"NOOOOO!" everyone screamed.


End file.
